Sun came out today. It was nice. Went for a walk on the beach.
The fog was still so thick you couldn’t see 100 yards down the beach, even with the sun out at 4pm. The tiny dot in the distance is the Gay Head lighthouse.
There were lots of starfish on the beach. I threw a bunch back in the water.
We collected wampum.
It got overcast on the way back. The cliffs above the beach are streaked with deep red clay. Access is restricted to tribal members by federal law.
In the late summer of 2005 I met Casey McKinney, a quietly bruised character at Maxfield’s coffee house on Dolores in San Francisco. We drove up to Muir Woods in a 1990 325i and stood in the fog and talked about my moving to the Bay Area and his potential escape to Europe and possibly New York City. I wasn’t sure what to think. But McKinney did it, and in doing so created the Fanzine; an everything and everyman culture magazine, which allows, or rather encourages, longer form writing that blurs the boundaries of fiction/non-fiction and every other genre encapsulation to which we might confine prose.
Today on the Fanzine, McKinney published a piece of writing that perfectly fits the bill of the Fanzine’s mission. In “Strawberry Jamming: Darryl’s Dodger Days, Memories of a Young Fan,” Richard Parks laces together the narrative of Darryl Strawberry’s self-destruction with urban malaise and tragedy of Los Angeles in the early 1990’s, all told (both) through the large innocent eyes of a nine-year-old fan and a 20-something’s hindsight.
It would behoove you to read it, in toto. You can let me know what you think.
Image from dingedcorners.com
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